The flight from Haven
by nova33
Summary: After burying Haven in snow, Erika finds herself trapped in the tunnels beneath the mountain.


A snippet from just after Corypheus shows up at Haven. I wrote this long ago, but never published it. Enjoy!

* * *

**The flight from Haven**

She had intended to stand and meet her fate, but instinct overwhelmed all else as the wall of ice and rock tumbled toward her and she ran. Catching herself as she passed the barricades she veered to the side and threw herself to the ground behind a rocky outcropping.

The sound was now deafening. Stones and debris flew over her head, the avalanche bare seconds behind. The rumbling grew nearer, and suddenly it was not only behind her but beneath her. Erika scrambled but had nowhere to go. The scream ripped from her throat as the ground split apart and swallowed her whole.

…

Awareness teased at her like an elusive butterfly. Erika made a grab for it and for a moment there was cold and pain, but then it was gone, teasing again at the edge of her mind. Fatigued, she drifted awhile until awareness again insistently flitted by. This time she grasped it with both hands and found herself gasping in pitch darkness, pain reporting in from every section.

For a moment she considered just letting herself lapse back into unconsciousness. But soldier's instincts kicked in and wrenched her back. Survival, that was what mattered, and the longer she lay here the less likely that would be. Groaning, she dragged herself upright, finding that she could not put weight on her left hand without excruciating pain to the wrist. She chuckled slightly breathlessly at the irony, as the pain completely eclipsed the background throb of the mark.

The mark… Through the heavy leather of her glove shone it's faint glow. Light! She yanked at the glove, and doubled over with a stifled groan, consciousness slipping for a moment, as the bones in her wrist shifted. Well that had been a stupid idea. _Care to try again Erika? _She reached for the knife at her back, relieved to find it exactly where it was meant to be. This was her survival knife, strong and sturdy, it wasn't much of a weapon but a perfect tool.

Carefully she cut a slit in her glove. Cutting it off wouldn't do, she would need the insulation, besides which the stiff leather was providing splinting for her definitely broken wrist. She concentrated the power of the mark and it flared with light, illuminating the space with it's sickly green glow.

"Well, now it's good for two things." She sighed.

Erika took stock, trying to ignore the waves of dizziness when she turned her head. Possible concussion then, definitely blood loss. She glanced around the space. Some kind of tunnel, probably deliberately made judging by the even floor. It was maybe 3 paces wide and mostly cut off by snow and rubble at one end, presumably where she'd come in. She gingerly held her hand up towards the ceiling but could see no gaps. The landslide had filled it completely. The tunnel made an abrupt turn about 10 paces from her. She hoped it wasn't similarly cut off just around the bend.

She turned her attention back to herself. Dimming the mark's glow so she could look at her hand, she attempted to move her fingers. Sure enough the wrist hurt like hell, but she found she could flex the fingers if necessary. Good, she'd likely need both hands.

Erika tried to take a deep breath. Another stupid idea as cracked ribs made themselves known, making her chest spasm. This in turn led to coughing which aggravated the ribs even further. Erika chuckled again in the delirium of pain and fatigue. Well that hadn't worked either. What else?

There was a gash in her leg leaking blood. It didn't look deep, but would need to be tied off. She reached into her pouch only to find the bandage she kept there missing. Groaning she remembered she had given it to one of the townsfolk during the attack. Working carefully she unwound the sash from her waist, tore a strip from it, and bound the leg. Her leathers seemed to have protected her from too many other lacerations, though she'd be horribly bruised later.

She raised a hand to her head and found it sticky. _Great. _Feeling across her scalp she felt a bump and a small cut. It was impossible to tell if it was still bleeding thanks to the blood already surrounding it. Head wounds were messy, but tended to heal quickly. If she only had a potion that would take care of it.

_Hold it._ Erika backed her thoughts up. She'd given out the two potions she'd had with her to the wounded in the chantry, but… Fatigue was threatening to overwhelm her again, there was something else about potions. She remembered Adan had started brewing more as soon as he could set up a stove in the Chantry hall. He'd lacked both the ingredients and the time to do it properly but said they would do for the basics. He'd caught up with her just as she was leaving the chantry and pressed a vial into her hand. "Better than nothing right?" Was what he'd said.

_Bless you Adan. _She thought, locating the vial. Field brewed, it would have been little help in a battle, but here and now it would be a life saver. She tipped the vial up and drank, stopping herself when it was half empty. The pain numbing effects would last only a few hours, she might need a second dose.

Within minutes the potion was doing it's work, the sharp pain in her wrist and chest dulling to an insistent thrum. She was beginning to regain her energy too, though that could be treacherous. Potions had a tendency to act a little like an adrenaline rush, leaving the user drained when the effects faded. Another good reason for the half strength dose.

Erika stood unsteadily, grateful to note her head no longer spun. Using the tunnel wall for support she made her way to the turn. Around the bend things looked much the same, rough walls, flattened floor, and another dead end made of fresh looking debris. But one side of the tunnel looked oddly dark in the meagre glow. A side passage? She made her way to the space. Sure enough, another tunnel branched off here, though she could not tell how far it extended.

Here there was more evidence of deliberate construction. Heavy wooden struts supported the ceiling, and a metal hook hung from a wall. Probably for a lantern, though unfortunately there was none there now. Erika shivered. She would need to find some way to warm up in short order. Perhaps she would find a lamp further on, she could definitely use a better source of light too.

The tunnel yielded little in the way of useful materials, a few scraps of hessian, some deep mushrooms growing along the walls. There were a few more branching passages, but she passed them by. There were skittering sounds in some, spiders probably. With any luck they would not detect her presence.

Then at last she found what she was looking for. A lantern, lying on the ground beneath it's hook. The glass was smashed beyond repair, but some of the lamp oil remained in the reservoir, syrupy but useable. Erika dipped the hessian scraps she had found in the oil, then tore another strip from the sash at her waist and coated it with what was left. She could now start a fire, but she'd need more fuel to keep it going. She could feel the artificial energy of the potion wearing off, and her steps were beginning to falter. Her shivering was jarring her ribs, helping to keep her awake, but she desperately needed to stop and recuperate a little before moving much further.

Luck favoured her. A little further on she found a partial cave-in. One of the struts had been severely damaged and had half collapsed under the weight of earth it supported. There was still enough room in the tunnel to squeeze past the blockage, and amongst the rubble were several long splinters of wood from the broken support. With an effort, Erika worked them free.

She moved past the blockage and brought out her flint. The sparks caught the lamp oil and soon she had built a small fire. She huddled by it for a moment, but the wood splinters on the fire were burning fast. She'd need something else. She bundled a few longs splinters together and wound the coated strip of cloth around them, creating a serviceable torch. It would not last long, and nor would her dwindling energy reserves. Whatever was here, she needed to find it quickly.

Erika stumbled along the passage as quickly as she could manage. The stronger light meant she was no longer wasting time peering into dark corners. She rounded a bend and suddenly the light seemed to dim as she entered a much larger passage.

She almost collapsed at the sight that met her eyes, a few huffs of disbelieving laughter escaping her. Inset in the floor were two metal tracks, and to one side lay an upturned mining cart, broken and _wooden._ She set the torch at its base and collapsed against a wall, smiling as the flames took hold.

…

A sudden clatter jolted Erika awake. She looked about wildly, breath coming in quick gasps. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, in her condition she might never wake again. Her eyes focused on the burning cart, now lying awkwardly sideways. She calmed her breathing as she realised - the cart, now almost burned away on one side, had collapsed under it's own weight, causing the dreadful noise.

She pushed herself up and took stock. The healing potion's other effects were wearing off; the dull ache of her wrist was sharpening, and her ribs were creaking with each movement. Cold crept back in, despite the dancing flames. She seemed to be in a main tunnel now. She could see a torch bracket near the flickering edge of the light, and the cart tracks stretched off into the darkness in both directions. Near the burning cart she now noticed was a heap of sacking, she drew it aside and found beneath some old mining tools and a length of rope.

Sending up a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker she wrapped the sacks around herself as added insulation, and slipped the rope and a largish pick-hammer into her belt. She did have her survival knife, and another small knife in her boot, but neither would have served against a spider. With this she stood a chance.

A snuffling sound from further down the tunnel caught her attention. A nug? If she could only catch it she'd have food as well. She'd been eyeing the deep mushrooms, wondering whether the energy boost was worth the mild hallucinogenic effects. This would certainly be a better alternative.

She crept as best she could to the torch on the wall and removed it from its bracket. Moving back to light it from the cart. As she stepped forward she saw movement in the flickering shadows ahead and moved to circle around. There were two nugs there, squeaking and snuffling by the wall. As the light approached they became aware of her presence. A scuffle broke out as both nugs turned to run, scrambling over one another in fear. Erika swore internally. Nugs could not run fast, but nor could she in her current state. She threw the torch ahead of them, hoping to turn them back. One simply veered around it, but the other balked, frozen for a moment in uncertainty. It was long enough. Erika made a grab for it and quickly dispatched it with her boot knife.

The meat was better than she'd expected. She'd never eaten nug before, at least not that she was aware. She ate as much as she could and cut the rest into strips, charring them on the fire and wrapping them to eat later. There was no knowing how long she might be stuck down here. Grimacing at that thought she decided to keep the remainder of the potion for now. The food would give her energy at least. She'd bear with the pain as long as she could.

She retrieved the smouldering torch from where she had thrown it, relighting it from the remains of the fire. There would be more torches ahead in such a mainstream tunnel. She would take as many as she could, and hope she was travelling in the right direction. Bracing herself for a long walk, she set off.

…

Erika was losing track of time. How long had she been walking now? Six hours? Ten? Twelve? The tunnel twisted and dipped, sometimes opening into large caverns with several branching tunnels. The rope was gone - tied as a safety line for an unsafe ledge, she had been unable to retrieve it. Likewise her boot knife had been expended, perhaps unwisely, on a vicious deepstalker. It had fled, wounded, but taken the knife with it. The pickhammer had proved invaluable, driving off three large spiders, but more were sure to come, and it could only protect her for so long.

Erika began to worry. The pain and the cold were closing in again, making it hard to think. She had long since downed the last of the health potion, and now it's effects were fading once again. She was nearing her limit and would need to stop again soon and risk some sleep.

She held the torch up high, hoping for some sign she was on the right track. This tunnel sloped slightly upwards and was broad, but low ceilinged. She shivered as a breath of frigid air swept past, making the torch flicker. And suddenly she was scrambling ahead. A breeze! From outside!

There, she saw, the entrance to the tunnel. But so blocked up with snow it would take hours to dig through. Confusion combined with disappointment. Then where could the breeze have come from? Another wash of cold bathed her back. She turned quickly and raised the torch. There to one side was another partial cave in. But there did seem to be a small gap between the rocks where she might just squeeze through.

Clambering up the rubble Erika attempted to squeeze through the gap with little success and some strong protestation from her ribs. Setting down the torch and tucking her injured hand protectively against her she summoned what energy she had left to dig and lever out the stones that barred her way. Desperate now to leave this place.

Finally the way was cleared. Taking up the torch once more she eagerly stepped through an open gash in the ice, only to choke on a sob of horror. A blizzard raged in the darkness, obscuring both sky and ground. Any tracks would long be covered, all lights doused or eclipsed. She sank to the ground in despair… she would never find them.

…

Erika sat huddled back in the tunnel. She had piled her remaining torches together as a sort of makeshift fire, though it did little to penetrate the cold seeping in from above. She wasn't sure what to do anymore. Going out into the storm meant almost certain death, but staying here would be the same sentence. She had lasted this long on the strength of determination and the makeshift health potion, but one was gone and the other was waning. She was in desperate need of medical attention and proper shelter.

Hope. It was the single most important tool for survival, and hers was gone. She thought brokenly of the people of Haven. Out there somewhere, struggling through the snow. Many would not make it through the night, despite the healers best efforts. She thought of her companions. Would they all make it? Would they continue on without her? Find a new way to fight back? She thought about the future she had seen in Redcliffe. Perhaps now that future was inevitable. Without the mark, the _Anchor_, to close the rifts an army of demons would sweep across Thedas. The Inquisition might revive, but ultimately it would fall. The breach would engulf the sky, all life would be obliterated.

She buried her face in her hands. She had almost believed it, almost let herself be convinced that somehow this was all for a reason. That she had been chosen for some worthy purpose. But it was all an accident, a spell gone wrong, and her power a mere side effect, stolen from a would-be god. Perhaps it would have happened anyway. Only the mark could seal the rifts, and more appeared each day. Could she alone have held back the plans of the Elder One?

She let her head fall back and her eyes caught on a supporting crossbeam, reminding her of the splintered wood she had used to start her fire. Her mind slowly turned over the events of the past few hours. She had been saved by a freak accident. A crack in the ground that had appeared directly underneath her at the most opportune time. She had been able to find wood, food, and a path to the surface, all when she had most needed them. Hope flickered tentatively. Perhaps the Maker _had_ brought her this far. Maybe the mark had been an accident, but it had become a weapon to fight back. Chosen or not, she still had a purpose.

Erika stood unsteadily but with steel in her eyes. This was it then. She would either reach them, or die trying. There was one torch still unburned. She slotted it into her belt, praying there might yet be a chance to use it, and held the mark high for what light it could offer. Then she set out into the storm.

…

Erika knew she could not last much longer. She shook so violently from the cold she could not even hold the staff she had cut. Each step was more difficult, her legs numb and refusing to move. The shivering rattled her smarting ribs, making her cough, there were flecks of blood on the snow.

At least she had hope she was heading in the right direction. In the shelter of a pile of stones she had found the remains of a fire, cold to the touch, but clearly recent. The storm was clearing now, and she could see the mountain peaks above. They would surely have kept to lower ground where possible, despite the snow. This had to be the right way.

In the lee of a nearby cliff face she found something that made her heart skip. Another abandoned fire, this one slightly warm to the touch. She didn't quite believe it for a moment. Flexing and blowing on her fingers before testing again to make sure she had not imagined it. No, it was warm. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry in her relief. They were close. She dug desperately into the ashes hoping for a hint of red. There was none, but the heat was stronger here. With shaking fingers she drew the cold, wet torch from her belt and plunged it deeply into the ashes, laying herself over the top for what little warmth the coals had left.

She lay for only a few moments. She was so close now, there could be no delay. She dug the torch out of the ashes and, with trembling fingers, struck her flint. It worked. The wind still blew, but the snow no longer fell. The torch would stay lit for now. She struggled onward, keeping the torch held high. This was her beacon, her last hope. The people of Haven would have dug in by now, she might never see them, but they would see her. Surely they would. They would see the light and come for her. She struggled on through the fallen snow, heedless now of the time that passed. Cresting a hill suddenly below her were the lights of fires, distant but unmistakeable.

Grateful tears stung her eyes, her strength abandoning her. She stumbled forward, keeping the torch held high, and sank to her knees in the snow. She had made it.

…

Cassandra frowned and pointed back the way they had come.

"What is that light?" She questioned.

Cullen glanced up and frowned as well.

"We can't have left anyone behind, can we?"

"I think I see a figure," Cassandra said squinting, "Could a survivor have caught up with us?"

"We'd better go and help." Cullen said, shouting to two soldiers to accompany them.

Cassandra jogged after him, eyeing the distant light.

"You don't suppose…"

"Impossible." He replied. But wild hope flared in his chest.

They neared the figure. On its knees and wrapped in filthy rags it was impossible to tell who it was, until a flare of green light caught their attention.

Cullen's step faltered in disbelief.

"It's her." He managed to shout to Cassandra behind him.

"Thank the Maker!" She shouted back.

He reached the figure and fell to his knees beside her. Her hair was dark and matted, her face covered in dried blood and soot. Eyes bloodshot and lips blue. Quaking from head to toe. Without the mark he would never have recognised her.

"Erika," He said gently, cupping her face. Then more firmly, "Erika, can you hear me?"

Weary eyes struggled to focus. "C…m-mander." She stuttered out.

"It's alright. We've got you now." He moved to support her back, sounding more confident than he felt. She looked like death, how could she even have made it this far?

Cassandra pried the torch from Erika's trembling fingers and turned to bark at the soldiers.

"You, find First Enchanter Vivienne and get her to come at once. You, make sure a space is cleared by the main fire immediately. Go!" They went.

"Cassandra." She turned at Cullen's voice. "She'll freeze out here. We need to get moving now."

"Right." Cassandra bent to Erika's side. "Can you stand?"

Erika's eyes met hers pleadingly. "I…"

"We'll help." Cassandra said resolutely, shifting the torch to her other hand and nodding to Cullen.

Cullen placed a steadying hand around her waist and grasped her left hand to pull it over his shoulder. Erika gasped and made a strangled sound, flinching the hand away.

"Sorry!" He stammered, backing off.

She shook her head and reached out, draping the arm around his shoulders. He gingerly brought his hand back up to support it.

"Here?" He questioned, touching just above the wrist. She grimaced and he withdrew.

"Here?" He tried again, this time just below the elbow. She nodded.

He took a firm grip on the forearm and tugged her hips closer to his so he could haul them both to their feet. Cassandra moved to support her other side, and they started forward together.

It was slow, it was awkward, and every ounce of energy seemed to have abandoned Erika. They had only come a short way when her legs collapsed and refused to carry her any further. Her friends lowered her as carefully as possible.

Cullen shot a glance at Cassandra.

"I'll have to carry her."

"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked. They were both tired and sore, and the snow was nearly knee deep here.

He shook his head slightly, "I'll have to."

"We could get one of the sleds."

But that would take time, and it was a miracle she had lasted this long.

Cullen bent in front of Erika, Cassandra helping her onto his back.

"I'll need you to hang on." He told her. She nodded vaguely and wrapped her arms around his neck.

With some difficulty he got to his feet. Stumbling forwards as Cassandra tried vainly to support them both. In a few moments they saw Vivienne rushing across the snow. Cullen paused but did not set the girl down, afraid that he would not be able to pick her up again.

"Oh my dear, what have you done to yourself?" Vivienne clucked when she saw the ragged bundle.

Erika tried to laugh.

Vivienne instructed Cullen to keep walking and worked as they went. The main thing was to get her to the fire and shelter. Erika sighed as the healing glow surrounded her, easing the pain, her eyes drifting shut.

"Stay with us Erika." Cullen jolted her slightly. He wouldn't be able to carry a dead weight. "Just a little further."

She focused, tightening her grip on his shoulders, and looked ahead. There was the fire, roaring and spitting with heat. In a moment he had set her beside it and she listened detachedly to the shouts of recognition, Vivienne's harsh commands, and the howling of the wind before finally lapsing into oblivion.


End file.
